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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27722233">Anything For You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/pseuds/foggys_cupcake_girl'>foggys_cupcake_girl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Lobster (2015), The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha Patrick, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff without Plot, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage, Married Life, Mpreg, Omega David, Patrick loves his pregnant omega a lot, Pregnancy, Protective Patrick, Romantic Fluff, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, pregnant David, that's it that's the fic, well without much plot anyway</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:53:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,288</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27722233</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/pseuds/foggys_cupcake_girl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Companion piece to "What if your hand was my hand." Patrick goes out of his way to keep his pregnant omega as comfortable as possible...no small task, considering they live in a camper and David's suffering from every symptom of pregnancy known to man.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>David (The Lobster)/Patrick (Perks of Being a Wallflower)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Anything For You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This one goes out to iPumperdiddle...this 'verse wouldn't exist if you hadn't helped me with my first crack at A/B/O. Enjoy this plotless fluff, you deserve it ;) &lt;3</p><p> </p><p>  <span></span><br/>  </p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s a very nice, breezy spring day. Patrick inhales the fresh air with a smile as he walks the few short blocks from the laundry building to his camper site, a basket of clean clothes balanced on his hip. It’s nice outside, cool but not cold, sunny but definitely not hot. He wants to savor this weather now, because he knows that by the end of May, the heat will kick up and while his stoic, gentle omega may not show it, the poor man will be absolutely miserable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opens the door to the camper, scoots in sideways with the laundry basket, and goes down the hall to the tiny bedroom. David is resting on the unmade bed, as he should be, but he sits up as soon as he sees Patrick, the faintest of smiles playing at the corner of his lips. Patrick grins back and upends the laundry basket on the bed. “Here you go. Fresh out of the dryer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David lets out a tiny moan of appreciation as he hugs the clothes to his chest and inhales deeply. Patrick almost sighs in relief: fresh, clean laundry is one of the few scents that David finds comforting, and Patrick is determined to give his pregnant mate as much comfort as he can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While David begins to slowly, methodically fold the laundry (sniffing each piece as he does) Patrick goes to make breakfast. It was a learning curve, figuring out how to cook on a propane stove, but Patrick is nothing if not a fast learner and he was determined to provide for his mate, and after eight months in the camper he’s figured it out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want, honey?” he calls back to David. “Pancakes again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it’s not too much trouble,” David replies, his voice muffled in a piece of clothing. Patrick smiles to himself; </span>
  <em>
    <span>if it’s not too much trouble</span>
  </em>
  <span> is David-speak for </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh God yes please.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It’s been hard. Patrick’s parents turned up their noses at David and were furious to learn that the couple had bonded without their blessing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine,</span>
  </em>
  <span> they snapped, </span>
  <em>
    <span>if you’re in such a hurry to grow up, you can do without us.</span>
  </em>
  <span> They still loved him, but they were angry and concerned. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Do you have any idea,</span>
  </em>
  <span> they demanded of him as he packed up his room, </span>
  <em>
    <span>how hard this is going to be?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew, but Patrick didn’t care. He’d rather have a hard life with David than an easy one with anybody else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As a faculty member David could get reduced tuition for immediate family, and as an alpha with no known health problems Patrick was entitled to free healthcare from the state, which he was allowed to share with his spouse. So barely a week after they bonded they were married at the courthouse with only Sam and Charlie as their witnesses. They lived in David’s apartment for the first three years while Patrick finished school and it seemed like everything would be all right…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>…until a round of budget cuts at the university left David without a job, and most schools refused to hire a married, bonded omega. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Your alpha can take care of you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> they said dismissively, and while Patrick got an entry-level job at a tech company, David resorted to teaching online community college classes as an adjunct professor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But they’ve made it work. They bought a used camper and moved to Michigan, where Patrick could get better work, and good thing too, because they’d only been here a few months when they learned that David was pregnant. So of course, since then Patrick has worked from home as much as possible (God bless their campground for having decent internet so he can get online to do his work) and put his heart and soul into spoiling his omega.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This morning he makes the pancakes David has been craving daily for the last few weeks: white chocolate and raspberry, with plentiful whipped cream on top. It’s not very healthy…but after the morning sickness of the first trimester, Patrick is just happy to see his mate eating again. He’s twenty weeks along and the cravings have kicked in, and Patrick is more than happy to make those pancakes until the cows come home. Whatever David wants, David gets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Patrick has made breakfast the laundry has been meticulously folded and put back in the basket. Patrick munches a rolled-up pancake while he puts away the laundry one-handed, while David puts away two plates of pancakes and four sausage links. “You okay?” Patrick asks when he goes to clear the plates. “Want anything else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David shakes his head and holds out his arms. “Can you come back to bed? Just for a little while?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick needs to work. But he can’t bear to deny David anything, so… “If you want to try to rest for a while,” he offers, “I can get my laptop and sit here with you while I do a few things for work. You can cuddle up to me while I work, is that all right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David considers it for a moment as he always does, even for a simple decision, and then nods seriously. “Yes. That will be good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick takes his time arranging things, tucking up David’s pregnancy pillow behind his back and settling him in bed with the fan blowing on him at the lowest setting, before he gets out his computer and tries to get some work done. He manages, a little anyway, and finally gets to a point where he can stop when he looks down and sees the tiniest frown on his husband’s face. As he watches, David lets out the softest little aching whine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right. Nightmares. How could he forget? Pregnancy produces vivid dreams, and this certainly won’t be the first time Patrick has had to chase away some of the painful ghosts from David’s past. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sets aside his computer and lies down so he can pull his shivering omega into his arms. “Come here honey. Sh-h-h. It’s okay, it’s just a dream. You’re here with me, you’re safe,” he assures David, and then holds him close and sings quietly, anything that pops into his head, songs from musicals he was in when he was in high school, popular songs from the radio, indie things that he and Sam and Charlie used to listen to because it made them feel cool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It works. Patrick feels David relax against him eventually, and he patiently waits for David to decide whether or not Patrick needs to know what happened in the dream. But when David’s recovered all he says is, “I don’t think I could sleep again just now. Can we watch TV for a while?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Patrick says. “We can do whatever you want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they’re watching Matt Smith’s introduction episode of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Doctor Who,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Patrick notices David eyeing the fish-fingers-and-custard combination with a twinge of interest in his eyes, and he has to fight back a laugh because of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> the single most disgusting-looking meal in the history of TV would spark a craving for his weird, lovely mate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to the store,” Patrick decides, and disentangles himself from David so he can get up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you get some fish sticks?” David asks softly, tentatively, as if he thinks he has no right to ask for such a thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you think I’m going to the store?” Patrick says with a laugh. “I don’t know what they’ll have in the way of custard but I’ll see what I can do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David looks mildly distressed. “You shouldn’t have to,” he begins uncertainly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Patrick is used to him demurring and quickly cuts him off, “Yeah, right, I shouldn’t get the man who is </span>
  <em>
    <span>carrying my child</span>
  </em>
  <span> anything he wants? Please.” He grabs his keys off the nightstand. “Give me twenty minutes. I’ll be right back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The grocery store isn’t five minutes from the campground, but this time of day it’s crowded and it takes a little longer than Patrick thought to get what he needs. He returns to the camper to find David has moved, and is now curled up on the couch looking utterly miserable. “Back hurting again?” Patrick asks as he rips open the fish sticks and turns on the tiny oven. “Okay, precious. Just let me get lunch started here and I’ll come take care of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m all right, really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, and I’m Tim Curry,” Patrick says with a roll of his eyes. He gets the fish sticks in the oven, retrieves his little box of oils and lotions from the bathroom, and kneels on the couch behind David. “Want anything while the fish sticks are cooking?” he asks. “I think we have pizza left over from last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Last night’s craving, which very nearly made Patrick throw up his own dinner, was cheese pizza with hot fudge and powdered garlic. Patrick is pretty sure </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> is going to have nightmares if David asks for anything like that again.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m all right. Just—just sore, but only a little,” David says with a telltale wince.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can fix that. Just stay still and try to relax.” Patrick peels off David’s shirt and generously coats his hands with lavender essential oil, then sets to work massaging the knots and tension out of David’s aching, tired muscles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Child-bearing for older omegas, not to put too fine a point on it, really sucks. Pregnancy is a vulnerable time for omegas to begin with, but David’s body isn’t as well equipped to handle a child as it was ten years ago, and symptoms that wouldn’t normally hit that hard have essentially brought him to his knees. But David almost never complains, and Patrick loves him so much and is so proud of him and makes sure to tell him so every day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Patrick finishes the backrub, goes and collects the fish from the oven, mixes up the custard, and delivers both to his waiting omega, who despite insistence that he’s not that hungry quickly devours an entire box of fish sticks and two bowls of custard. He works through lunch and only realizes at 2:30, when he’s finally persuaded David to lie down again (David tires so easily these days, even if he pretends he doesn’t) that he really hasn’t eaten today, aside from that single pancake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right. That’s…definitely not good. If he’s going to stay strong and take care of his family, Patrick scolds himself, he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>got</span>
  </em>
  <span> to make sure he gets food and rest himself, or he’ll be useless when David needs him. He slaps together two peanut-butter sandwiches (not the peanut-butter-and-tuna sandwiches David begged for last week, which Patrick doesn’t think he could eat if he was starving to death) and eats them while he works on the nursery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Figuring out where to put a baby in a camper took some doing. They moved the recliners out (didn’t make sense to have those and a couch) and set up the crib in the slide-out, but now of course it’s Patrick’s job to fit in everything else the baby needs into that tiny space—a dresser, changing table, baby bathtub. The high chair he just clamps to the dining table. Everything else, though…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick is still practicing amateur feng shui when David calls for him. He’s hurting again, this time “all over,” and it must be excruciating because David rarely admits to being in pain, but right now he’s close to tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It tears at Patrick’s heart to see David like this. The only thing that’s worse, he thinks, was the morning sickness of the first trimester, when David couldn’t keep anything down and was so miserable and dehydrated he had to be taken to the hospital twice for IV fluids. That was the worst, but this is a close second. So he leaps into action, taking on each problem one at a time. Tylenol and a heating pad for the sore back, Pepcid and lots of water for the heartburn, a cold compress for the headache. He rubs his mate’s swollen feet, then settles David’s head in his lap and strokes his hair and neck until he feels David melt against him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish I could do more for you,” Patrick murmurs. “I wish I could take all the pain away. I wish I could carry the baby so you didn’t have to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve done everything you can,” David sighs, relaxed and sleepy now that the worst of his pain has been soothed. “Can I sleep here like this for a while? I’m so tired…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He means, </span>
  <em>
    <span>will you hold me while I sleep,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and of course Patrick will, he’ll do anything David wants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waits until David is asleep to pull out his phone and do some research. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How to help a pregnant omega.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Most of the search results Google comes up with are things he already knows, or things he can’t do because he’s limited by their living situation. One suggestion in particular nearly makes him cry: </span>
  <em>
    <span>draw a hot bath and mix in 1 cup of spearmint eucalyptus epsom salts, 1 quart of milk, ½ cup of vitamin E baby oil, and 3 tablespoons of baking soda—it’ll ease those pregnancy-induced aches, draw out any impurities, soothe dry, itchy, or flushed skin, and most importantly help them relax. Pregnancy is hard work, after all!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>How he’d love to do something like that for David, if only they had a bathtub! David’s fine with showering in their tiny bathroom most of the time, but it’s gotten hard since he popped and can barely turn around in the shower. Patrick is about to throw his phone down in frustration when he remembers…Sam gifted them an inflatable kiddie pool in case they decided to do a home water birth…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay. So. Maybe he can do something extra for David after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The inflatable pool is just wide and deep enough that it should work. Another quick trip to the store for more milk, baby oil, and epsom salts later, and Patrick has everything he needs to set up that bath. Just add water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sets up the pool in the living room (the only place for it, really) and uses the bucket they use to mop the floors (only after cleaning it thoroughly!) to haul hot water from the bathroom to the pool, working quickly as he knows the hot water will run out before the pool is full. When that inevitably happens he boils kettles and pots of water on the stove, still working as quickly as he can to ensure the pool doesn’t get cold before he can get David into it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the pool is full he adds all the ingredients listed in the article and leans in to take a whiff of his handiwork. It smells good, fresh and clean, and he hopes it’s to his mate’s liking. He goes back to the bedroom, where David is sleeping fitfully again, tossing and turning and breaking Patrick’s heart all over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kneels on the edge of the bed and gently shakes David awake. “Wake up, honey…I’ve got a surprise for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever it is,” David says as he surreptitiously dries his nightmare-induced tears, “it smells great.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s a good sign. Patrick helps David out of bed and out of his clothes, unable to resist touching his mate’s round, swollen belly. David lets out a contented sigh as Patrick strokes the soft, smooth skin, his head dropping into the crook of Patrick’s neck. “That feels good. Please don’t stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t,” Patrick tells him with a smile, “except I’ve got something here for you that’ll feel a whole lot better. C’mon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leads David down the hall to the living room, and takes a special delight in the way David’s eyes go wide at the sight of the makeshift bathtub. “For me?” he says plaintively, as if he can’t believe someone would </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> do this for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course it’s for you, precious. Here…let me help…” Patrick eases David into the pool. “Careful now, the oil makes it slippery…not too hot, is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Evidently not, because as he sinks into the water David lets out an unmistakable moan of relief. “It’s very good. Wonderful. Perfect.” He moans again as Patrick begins to gently massage his neck and shoulders. “Oh, that feels good too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great, it’s supposed to. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> you to feel good, love, you deserve it.” Patrick keeps up the massage for a little longer until David’s muscles are nearly completely slack under his touch. He has his mate lay back so that most of his body is in the water, head resting on the side of the pool. “You just relax,” he instructs David. “I’ll be here if you need me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He goes to the kitchen and starts to prepare some dinner, keeping an eye on David from a few feet away. The look of bliss on his omega’s face makes Patrick’s soul sing with joy. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I did that,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thinks happily as he dices leftover rotisserie chicken and various canned vegetables, to be mixed into a pot of macaroni and cheese (he won’t ask for it, but Patrick knows David </span>
  <em>
    <span>loves</span>
  </em>
  <span> mac and cheese with vegetables and chicken and, honestly, it’s better for him than pizza with hot fudge and garlic).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bath helps immensely. It eases the worst of David’s pain and helps him relax, just as the article said it would, and as Patrick helps him out and dries him off he can see the difference. David isn’t limping or wincing with every step; his movements are a little easier and more fluid and he doesn’t need help to get from the pool to the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feeling better?” Patrick asks as he makes David a pillow-nest on the couch. (Omegas nest like wolves when they’re pregnant, but even after a soothing bath Patrick knows David still won’t have enough energy to do it himself.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Much better.” David shoots Patrick a sharp (well, sharp for him anyway) look. “Are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> all right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Patrick assures him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you aren’t,” David observes. “You’ve worn yourself out taking care of me today. It’s no use lying,” he adds when Patrick starts to deny it. “You smell all wrong when you’re tired or sad. I can tell.” He gives Patrick a sympathetic look. “I can’t do anything about it, not really. But…will you please promise me that you’ll eat a real dinner tonight? And maybe after we eat…” He pats the edge of the pillow nest. “Will you just sit and rest with me, and not do any work? Just for tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will, love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Promise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David looks satisfied, and Patrick knows why: alphas can’t break a promise made to their omegas. Even if they might want to, their nature won’t really let them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Patrick feels like being a little sappy tonight, so after they’ve eaten and they’re curled up in the nest on the couch together, another old episode of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Doctor Who</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the television, he leans in and whispers to David, “I promise I’ll never stop loving you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David sighs deeply and contentedly, like a very small very tired child, and nestles deep into the nest, into Patrick’s arms, and closes his eyes. “I believe you,” he murmurs, and Patrick’s heart flutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His parents were right. This </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> hard. He’s exhausted and he can barely imagine doing this for another four months. But as he rests a hand on David’s swollen belly and feels a little pulse of movement under the stretched skin, he knows one thing and one thing alone: it is absolutely worth it.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come hit me up on Twitter @CupcakeFoggy if you're interested in chatting about all things Colin Farrell ^_^</p></blockquote></div></div>
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